


(beginning at the singular beginning of your smile)

by alison



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 15:43:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alison/pseuds/alison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has a thing for Nick. Nick has a thing for someone else. That person is Harry's best friend.</p><p>Louis' life gets a little complicated. He blames science.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(beginning at the singular beginning of your smile)

**Author's Note:**

> Forever thanks to [Kay](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ImNotOhKay/pseuds/ImNotOhKay) for awesomeness.
> 
> Apologies for any mistakes. I need to find myself a beta or something.

Harry likes to go out a lot. He has countless friends and receives countless invitations to countless parties and he likes to drag Louis along with him more than anything. Which is fine on nights like these when Louis has had a shit week at school and needs nothing more than a few drinks and a bit of dancing, totally fine except for the part of going out that includes watching Harry fawn over Nick Grimshaw all night.

Harry's had this crush on Nick ever since they met him, months back when they stumbled into that bar, already half-drunk, and ordered two beers from the striking bartender. At first Louis thought he was cute, thought he and Harry might have to fight over him, but then they started talking to him and Louis not-so-gracefully bowed out. The guy was arrogant and a little self-involved and from that first day he and Louis just rubbed each other wrong.

But Harry was enamoured and forced Louis to go back to that bar time and time again. A friendship developed and now it would appear that Louis is stuck with Nick.

So when Harry tells Louis they're going out with a few people this evening, he understands that Nick will be one of them and he mentally prepares himself to watch the display of Harry's shameless flirting.

He wonders if this will be the night that Nick will finally pull his head out of his arse and reciprocate.

-

Louis' working on his third drink when he looks over to see Harry's hand clinging to Nick's neck, his head resting on Nick's shoulder, and a drunken smile plastered across his face. He's begging for it, everyone can see, but Nick just throws a casual arm around Harry's shoulder and ruffles his hair. 

When Harry snuggles closer, Nick turns to whisper into Harry's ear and points a thumb toward the bar before getting up and walking away. Louis watches and sees Harry's eyes flicker sadly and it's all so pitiful and Louis' so confused, so he hauls himself up and heads in the direction of the bar, his legs wobbling a bit as the alcohol floods his system.

He finds Nick leaning back against the wall next to the bar, a fresh drink sitting on a tall table next to him. He seems to be staring blankly at the ceiling and Louis briefly wonders if someone rufied him or something.

“Oi!” he says loudly as he approaches, which brings Nick back down to earth, eyes dropping to meet Louis'. “You're an idiot, you know that? Harry obviously wants you, god knows why, and you keep pushing him away! He's wonderful and you'd be lucky to have him, you twat.”

Nick looks unsurprised, but winces a bit at Louis' words.

“You don't think I know all of that? Trust me, I'm well aware. I'm aware he's too good for me and I'm aware that I'm an idiot, so you can save the lecture.”

“So what's stopping you from dropping to your knees in front of him with your mouth open then?”

Nick looks into Louis' eyes for a long moment before looking down and picking up his drink, staring into the glass.

“There's only one cock I'm interested in sucking and it's not his.”

“Oh,” Louis says, taken aback. And he sees it now that he's looking, sees the emotion in Nick's eyes and it throws him. He hasn't been rufied at all; he's fucking smitten. “I didn't know you were capable of real feelings.”

Nick rolls his eyes and his lips twitch up into a half-smile, but he doesn't respond. After a minute, Louis decides to push further, filled with curiosity about Nick's pining.

“So, this person whose cock you want to suck, is it a mutual thing?”

“Quite sure it's not,” Nick says lowly, avoiding Louis' gaze, before taking a sip from his glass.

“Quite sure? You mean you haven't told them?” Louis asks in disbelief. He's never seen Nick be shy about anything so this is all new to him.

Nick glares at Louis for a beat, then looks off into space, shaking his head. Louis sighs heavily, placing his own glass on the table next to them.

“I can't believe this evening has come to me giving you love advice,” Louis says, rolling his eyes at no one in particular before focusing back on Nick. “Just tell him. Even if you think there's no chance, tell him. Say to him 'yours is the only cock I want to suck' and just let it be out in the open. You never know what might happen and you'll feel better either way.”

Nick tears his eyes away from the nothing he's been staring at to look down at Louis. He takes a deep breath and Louis smiles a bit because he kind of likes this side of Nick, the side that's not an egotistical prick. Or maybe it's just the vodka, but he smiles anyway.

“'Yours is the only cock I want to suck', huh?” Nick repeats and Louis nods quickly in response.

“Those words exactly, I think it'll work out for you.”

Nick appears to be thinking for a moment and Louis waits patiently, knowing how difficult thinking about deep things can be for someone like Nick.

“I suppose I could give it a try. He kind of scares me, though,” Nick says, the hint of a twinkle in his eye.

Louis laughs loudly at that because of course Nick would like a guy who scares him. That's what emotional fuck-ups do, isn't it? They like people they shouldn't, people they can't have.

“Don't be a pussy, Nick. Just do it. And do it soon because mopey Nick is even worse than normal Nick. Maybe getting-laid Nick is more tolerable.”

Louis smiles as he says it, laughing quietly at his own wit, and Nick smiles softly in return, nodding his head.

“Okay,” he says as Louis claps him on the shoulder and turns to walk away. “Thanks, Louis,” he adds and Louis just waves without turning back.

-

“He's so fiiit and cuuute and fuuunnyyy,” Harry slurs even more slowly than his normal speaking voice, drawing the vowels out so long that Louis' forgotten how the word started by the time it ends.

It's a Thursday night and they have a standing date after classes at a local pub that has cheap beer and trivia, although they almost never pay attention to that bit, too busy chatting amongst themselves to worry about the capital of Senegal or the illegitimate children of Henry VIII.

“He's a self-important twat, Harry,” Louis reminds him, swallowing down the last of his beer.

Zayn, Liam, and Niall are barely paying attention at this point. Niall seems to be pointing out a particularly attractive waitress to the other two, but Louis _has_ to listen to Harry's whining because that's the job of being a best friend, he figures.

“He's just a twat to you because you're rude to him. When you're nice to him, he's lovely, really,” Harry finishes, a dreamy look smeared across his drunken face.

“You mean when you indulge his narcissistic tendencies by hanging all over every word he says?”

The dreamy look is gone as he glares over at Louis.

“I don't hang all over-”

“Aww, love, sure you do,” Louis says, frowning sympathetically. “But it's sweet, don't worry. He'll come around.”

Because Louis still thinks he will. He has to. Whoever he has a thing for couldn't be as loveable as Harry, so they don't stand a chance. Nick just has to move on from whatever little crush he's got and then he'll see. Eventually.

“Another round?” Louis asks the other lads.

They all nod gratefully and Louis takes the empty glasses from the table, heading to the bar. When he returns, he's got a tray balanced on one hand and does his best imitation of a cocktail waitress, managing to keep more than half of the liquid inside each glass, which he considers a success. 

“How'd you do on your world civ exam, Lou?” Liam asks, clearly trying to drag the conversation in a not-Nick-Grimshaw direction.

“Eh, passed. How about you?”

“Not as well as I wanted, but still have an A at half-term.”

“Bollocks, that's just because Professor Martin thinks you're cute.”

“Know who I think is cute?” Harry pipes up.

“ _Yes_ ,” they all answer immediately.

“Is anyone else taking European history with Harris next semester?” Niall asks, leaning forward.

“Is that the old guy with the wicked moustache?” Zayn asks.

“No, it's a younger woman, red hair, office on the third floor?”

“Is she hot?” 

“Not bad as far as professors go,” Niall shrugs. “She's got really cute freckles.”

“Know who else has really cute freckles?” 

“ _Yes_ ,” they all answer in harmony.

“You guys never let me have any fun,” Harry pouts, leaning back into the corner of the booth.

“Oh, _fine_ ,” Louis sighs. “Tell us about his beautiful sodding freckles, Harry.”

Harry lights up, sitting forward immediately. 

“Well, it depends on the light, see, sometimes you can see them and sometimes you can't.”

The other three roll their eyes and nod along as Harry continues, moving from freckles to eyelashes to perfectly shaped lips. When he starts in on his hands, Louis decides it's time to intervene.

“Okay, pal, that was enough for tonight. Save the rest for next time, yeah?”

The rest of them go back to talking about school and exams while Harry goes back to sulking. And as the other three get caught up in talking about a band playing nearby the following weekend, Louis drops back, throwing his arm around Harry's shoulder, pulling him close. Harry's drunk enough to be completely pliant and lets himself be pulled in, leaning heavily against Louis' side. Louis sees him pull his phone out and open his texts, going to Nick's name.

“No drunk texting,” Louis says gently, pulling the phone out of Harry's clumsy grip. “You'll thank me later.”

“No fair,” Harry whines, but he doesn't argue anymore, slumping against Louis more and huffing into his shoulder.

Louis just hopes Nick gets over his crush quickly because he's not sure how much more listening about his perfection he can handle.

-

When Nick comes over later that week for beers and an X-Men marathon, Louis feels even more awkward than usual watching Harry paw at Nick's arm, like a kitten begging for attention. His eyes meet Nick's a few times and he frowns because he wants Harry to know but he doesn't want to be the one to tell him. So he tries to pretend he doesn't know anything, lets Harry snuggle into Nick's shoulder, as he averts his eyes from the scene.

The marathon is over twenty minutes into the second film when Harry falls asleep, light snores filling the room.

“It's like a science,” Louis says, draping a throw over Harry, who is sprawled across the couch. “Four and a half beers and he's out. Every time.”

He smirks down at Harry and walks around the couch, going to pick up the empty beer bottles from the table behind it, but Nick's hand is on his wrist, stopping him. When Louis looks up, Nick's eyes are dark and serious and the smile disappears from Louis' face quickly.

“What?” He asks nervously.

Nick's hand is still on his wrist and he runs his fingers lightly against the back of Louis' hand before he turns them, pushing Louis back slowly until his bum hits the table. Just as Louis' about to ask what on earth he's doing, Nick drops his head, speaking quietly.

“Yours is the only cock I want to suck.”

Louis feels like it has to be a joke, but nothing about this is funny. Not the look on Nick's face, not the tone of his voice, none of it is reminiscent of a joke and Louis exhales heavily, breathing his response out with it.

“What?”

Nick lifts his gaze, looking at Louis with an odd mixture of pain and lust and something else, something buried under his skin.

“Yours is the only cock I want to suck,” he repeats and Louis has no idea how to react, no idea what to do.

They stand still and silent for a moment and Louis tries to wrap his mind around what Nick is saying, tries to remember the conversation they had the week before, but then Nick's hands are moving, his light touch moving to Louis' hips.

“Tell me no now,” he whispers, his gaze falling down to his own hands at Louis' sides.

But Louis' still trying to figure out what's going on and he can't speak, his eyes wide and his body frozen as he finally puts it together. Nick Grimshaw wants him, wants him bad enough to push Harry away, wants only him. His breath comes quicker as Nick looks back up into his eyes.

“Tell me no,” he says again, eyes squinting. “Do it now before...”

Louis feels like he can't breathe and he still can't speak, can't move as Nick's fingers tuck just under his shirt, thumbs rubbing against his skin. Nick moves in closer, his breath heavy against Louis' cheek.

“Tell me no before I'm on my knees because I don't think I could handle it if you pushed me away then.”

When Louis doesn't say anything, Nick's hands move to the button on Louis' trousers and he opens it and pulls the zipper down slowly, like he's trying to give Louis time to snap out of his haze and walk away. And Louis should be snapping out of his haze, but if anything the haze is getting thicker, his brain foggier as Nick's eyes lock onto his.

When Nick's palm presses lightly into him, Louis' eyelids flutter down and he realizes he won't be saying no, won't be pushing Nick away. And he really wishes he had more alcohol in his system because he's not drunk enough to blame it on the intoxication.

Louis' silence seems to be enough for Nick because he's pushing Louis' pants down and, even though Louis' eyes are closed, he feels Nick lower himself to his knees. When he feels Nick's hand on him, he finally opens his eyes, looking down just in time to see Nick's mouth lowering onto his cock, wet heat enveloping him.

Louis bites back a moan as Nick begins bobbing up and down slowly, his hands gripping tightly onto Louis' hips, pulling him in. His tongue curls up, dragging along the underside of his length and Louis shudders, grasping at Nick's shoulders for support. And, as he does, Nick looks up at him, his mouth full, and Louis can't help but bite his lip and thrust forward into Nick's mouth gently. 

When Nick moans around him in response, Louis lets out a breathy whine because it's so hot, so good, but then he looks up and he sees Harry's feet poking out from under the blanket. He remembers and he feels awful, but this feeling is too good to pull away from. Instead, he threads his fingers into Nick's hair and gets lost in the feeling, letting the blood rush away from his brain and toward his cock.

It's not long before Louis' nearing the edge, releasing a flurry of whispered moans and whimpers, trying to be quiet as he feels his muscles tighten.

“Fuck, I'm close,” he whispers and Nick nods a bit, mumbling an approving “mhmm” around him.

And when Louis comes, he lets out a choked groan, spilling into Nick's mouth and Nick licks at the head of Louis' cock as he swallows, making Louis shiver as he slowly comes down, nearly collapsing against the table. When Nick finally pulls his mouth away, he drops his head, staying on his knees while Louis just breathes for a couple of minutes. By the time he feels like he can move, he's gone soft and he tucks himself back in, pulling up his trousers.

Louis' about to reach out to pull Nick up when Harry grunts in his sleep and Louis sees his arm flop over the back of the couch as he shifts. And it hits Louis what a terrible thing he's just done.

“You should go,” he says quietly, looking down. 

Nick looks up and his lips are swollen red and his hair is sticking up where Louis shoved his fingers through it and he looks kind of sad, but he nods anyway, pushing himself to his feet.

“I'm sorry,” Louis says when Nick's standing in front of him. “It's just that I think I've just broken about a dozen of the rules of friendship and I can't-” 

“You don't have to explain,” Nick says quietly, his voice rough.

Louis wants to go on, wants to tell him how great it was but that they need to forget it happened because he can't hurt Harry like that, but he doesn't. He watches Nick leave and notices his slumped shoulders and when the door is closed behind him, he goes straight to his bedroom and falls onto his bed. Punching a pillow into submission, he curls up and fails at not thinking about how hot that experience was, how oddly right it felt, and eventually falls into a fitful sleep.

-

Louis doesn't see Nick for over a week after that. It's not until the following Friday that Harry begs him to go to a party with him and Louis agrees because Louis agrees to everything Harry asks lately. Apparently his subconscious has decided that if he accompanies Harry to enough parties and picks up enough eclairs on his way home and agrees to Chinese instead of Italian enough times, well, it'll all chip away at the guilt he's been feeling.

So, Louis agrees to go to the party and when they get there, he's not entirely surprised to see Nick in a far corner, chatting with a couple of girls Louis doesn't recognize. When their eyes meet, Louis looks away immediately, going straight for the counter full of liquor. He pours himself a healthy dose of rum with a splash of Coke and drinks it quickly. 

“You're not going easy tonight,” Zayn says, sidling up next to him as he pours himself a second drink.

“Nope,” Louis says simply, shaking his head and raising the cup to his lips, tipping back a generous sip.

“Feel like telling me why?” 

Zayn peers at him thoughtfully and it's just like Zayn, he thinks, to notice that something's wrong. Louis blames that philosophy minor of his, makes him all intuitive and annoying.

“No reason. Just feel like getting pissed.”

“There's always a reason. No one gets pissed just to get pissed.”

“Niall!” Louis shouts when he sees a familiar blonde head pass by. 

Niall stops abruptly and turns, facing them.

“Tell Zayn loads of people get pissed just to get pissed and it doesn't have to mean anything.”

Niall seems to appraise the situation, looking from Louis to Zayn.

“Loads of people get pissed just to get pissed, Zayn,” Niall agrees and just as Louis' about to congratulate himself, Niall adds on, “But only Irish people, I think.”

As Niall walks away, Louis glares, shouting, “I'm like one-fifteenth Irish!” before sighing and pulling his drink back to his lips.

Zayn winks and squeezes his shoulder reassuringly before he walks away, too, down a hallway, and Louis rolls his eyes, tipping back the rest of his cup.

After two more cups of this concoction and plenty of boring small talk with virtual strangers, he moves easily through the thinning crowd, finding Harry sitting on a couch with Nick, laughing loudly at whatever it is Nick has just said. Nick's smile falters a bit as Louis sits in the open spot next to him, but he continues on with his story nonetheless.

Harry laughs and punches Nick's arm playfully and Louis sits back and wonders why in fuck's name Nick has decided to want him instead of Harry. He can't even force himself to listen to what Nick's saying, honestly, which is mostly the liquor's fault. But Harry's fairly pissed, too, and still hanging on every word Nick says. It would be easier for everyone if Nick wanted Harry.

The idea sends an unsettled feeling through him, though, one that makes him drop his hand between their legs and softly rub his knuckles against Nick's thigh as he leans his head back and closes his eyes against the spinning of the room. The only reaction he gets is Nick's thigh pushing gently into Louis' hand and he can't even be sure he's doing that on purpose. 

Eventually the rum catches up to him and he suddenly desperately needs a piss, so he lifts himself off the couch wordlessly and goes off down the hall in search of a bathroom, which he finds easily. 

He pees and he shakes and he's just tucking himself in when he hears a knock and Nick's voice saying his name, asking if he's okay. When he opens the door, Nick's standing there and Louis doesn't even finish buttoning his trousers before pulling Nick into the bathroom and pushing their lips together in a fevered kiss.

Nick is frozen for a moment, but soon kisses back pushing Louis back against the counter, pressing their bodies flat against each other. Louis pushes Nick's lips open with his tongue and it's not very graceful, but Louis doesn't have the motor skills to be graceful right now. So he licks sloppily at Nick's tongue and Nick moans lowly into the kiss and Louis thinks to himself that Nick is a really good kisser and he feels a bit bad about the first impression he's giving off now.

“I'm usually a good kisser, I swear,” he says, pulling back just enough to speak. “'M drunk.”

“Your drunk kisses are better than most people's best kisses so don't worry,” Nick says breathlessly before diving in again, pressing his lips into Louis'. 

Louis can't help but move his hips forward into Nick's, groaning into Nick's mouth because this is fucking amazing, this feeling. He shamelessly grinds his hips against Nick's and Nick drags his lips off of Louis' to breathe, whimpering a little at the feeling.

“Can I touch you?” Louis asks, pushing his hands between them, fiddling with the zipper before he's even gotten an answer.

Nick nods quickly, though, obviously eager for it.

“Wanna see you come,” Louis mumbles, pushing his hand inside Nick's pants and wrapping his fingers around Nick's cock. “Wanna hear you.”

As he starts stroking, Nick's eyes roll back and he stumbles against Louis a bit. Louis soon gets frustrated and removes his hand only to push Nick's pants down a bit to give him more freedom in his movements and he starts again with a better angle, smiling as he finds Nick's lips, kissing him hungrily.

Nick releases little noises into Louis' mouth and Louis bites at his lip before moving down to bite his neck. 

Nick groans and a whispered “fuck” falls over Louis' ear and he smiles, releasing the skin from between his teeth and kisses it, flicking his tongue out over the mark.

Louis' wrist snaps a little faster and he glides the pad of his thumb over the precum gathering at the tip, rubbing it over the slit and he wants to taste it but he doesn't want to stop, so he switches hands, letting his left hand work Nick's cock as he lifts his thumb to his mouth, tasting him. 

Nick watches, his eyes darkening as Louis' tongue licks around his thumb and as soon as Louis pulls his hand away, his mouth is covered by Nick's mouth, tongues pushing together as Louis drops his right hand to replace his left.

Within moments, Nick is whispering “gonna come” into Louis' lips and Louis' nodding, pulling back because he really does want to see it, wants to see Nick's face change. 

Then he's coming and he's biting his lip and Louis can't help but smile a little because Nick looks quite beautiful when he's not in control, when he's vulnerable. As he comes, he falls into Louis' lips again and Louis takes it, kissing him as he strokes him through the orgasm.

But the moment is short-lived because, before Nick has even come down, the door is being pushed open and Louis looks up to see Harry standing there, taking in the sight before him; Louis' hand on Nick's cock, their swollen lips, the marks on Nick's neck, all of it.

Louis rips his hand away from Nick and Nick pulls his pants up quickly, turning away from Harry with a whispered “shit”. Harry's frozen for a moment, his eyes blurred with shock and anger and hurt, before he turns away and leaves without a word.

Louis looks back to Nick and their eyes meet for a moment and they share a silent _oh fuck_ before Louis leaves to try to chase down Harry. 

Harry's already outside, though, stalking toward his car when Louis finally catches him.

“Wait, Harry, please-” Louis starts, but Harry spins around quickly. 

“I don't want to hear it,” he says lowly. “Not right now.”

Louis stays in his spot as Harry walks away again, calling out over his shoulder.

“Maybe _he'll_ give you a ride home.”

And Louis stands there, watching him drive off, leaving him behind. It's cold out, autumn threatening to become winter, and he shivers, staring blankly toward the road. He can't move for a few minutes, still standing there when Nick walks up behind him.

“You alright?”

Louis shakes his head without looking back, his mouth set into a tight frown.

“Not really. Can you take me home?”

He does and they don't say anything and, when they're at his place, Louis hops out of the car with only a quiet “thank you” before he shuts the door and goes inside.

-

Harry doesn't speak to Louis for a week. The first two days, Louis tries desperately to get Harry to listen, bangs on his bedroom door and begs him to hear him out. But then Harry wrenches the door open and stares at him coldly and Louis' never seen Harry look cold, but he does now and it's all his fault.

“I don't want to talk to you yet,” he says quietly, but firmly. “I'll tell you when I do. Until then, stop fucking pushing.”

And then the door is closed again and Louis drops to the floor right there in the hallway, just praying he didn't just lose his best friend over a fucking handjob.

After that, Louis respects Harry's wishes and doesn't push. But he does send daily texts, even when Harry's just in the next room, telling him that he loves him, which he doesn't consider pushing. Just little reminders that Louis is still Louis and Harry is still Harry and he hopes it's enough.

After a week of no speaking, Louis can barely stand it. He's going crazy from it, which is how he rationalizes calling Nick one evening, speaking quietly into the phone to make sure Harry can't hear him through the walls. Clearly he's gone crazy.

“'Lo?” Nick answers, sounding half surprised, half tired.

“Hey,” Louis says, not really knowing what else to say.

It's quiet for a beat because neither really knows what the purpose of this phone call is.

“How are things with Harry?” Nick finally asks.

“They aren't,” Louis says in a sigh, dropping his head back against the headboard of his bed. “He's still not talking to me.”

“Still? Fuck, Louis, I'm sorry, I-”

“Don't apologize,” Louis says softly, interrupting. “My fault.”

Nick doesn't say anything for a while, but he finally speaks again as Louis watches a bit of dust floating above him, eyes following it as it dances in the air.

“Can I do anything to help? I mean, I guess I probably can't, but-”

“Can I come over for a while?” Louis asks and he shouldn't be asking it, but he just needs to get out of his house. The tension inside is driving him crazy and he just needs to breathe for a little bit.

Nick is surprised at the question, but quickly agrees and they hang up, promising to see each other soon. Within the minute, Louis is walking out the front door.

When he arrives at Nick's, Nick is wearing trackies and a hoodie and Louis can't help but smile at the sight. He's never seen him quite like this. Usually when they see each other, they're out at a club or a party and Nick is wearing skintight jeans and some hideous button-up monstrosity. But right now, he looks warm and soft and Louis wonders which one is the real Nick or if they both are.

“Hey,” Nick smiles, letting Louis into the house.

Louis gives him a half-smile in return and immediately walks into the house and drops face first onto the couch, draped along the length of it. Hearing Nick chuckling behind him, he grunts his displeasure back.

“Need a drink?” Nick asks above him.

Louis turns his head, mostly so he's no longer suffocating on the couch cushion, but also to look up at Nick as he responds.

“No. No more drinking around you.”

He can't read Nick's expression, doesn't really bother trying as he drops his gaze, staring blankly toward the floor.

“Are you planning on letting me sit down on my own couch or would you prefer I stand all night?” Nick asks sarcastically, but the familiar bite is absent from his tone, Louis notes. Where the question would have been snarky and harsh before, it's now more playful and teasing.

Louis lifts his legs at the knee and looks back up to see Nick roll his eyes and move to take the seat now cleared of Louis' lower legs. Louis drops them as soon as he's seated, of course, his shins resting on Nick's thighs and Nick sighs, placing a hand on Louis' calf.

“What do you need?” Nick asks, his thumb rubbing softly into Louis' leg through his jeans. “Want to talk about it or want to get your mind off it? Maybe some telly?”

Louis can't help but focus all of his attention on the feeling of Nick rubbing his leg and he mutters a distracted “yeah” in response, pushing his face further into the couch cushion.

A half hour into some show about police and murder and drugs – Louis' not really sure, but he _can_ trace each movement of Nick's hand across the back of his leg over the past 30 minutes, if that's anything – he finally flips over, laying on his back and looking up at Nick. Their eyes lock for a few seconds before Nick smiles a bit, rolling his eyes as he looks back to the TV with a sigh.

“Thought the view of your bum was bad,” he mutters, staring at the screen.

Louis creases his brow in confusion.

“What?”

Nick turns back to him, smiling and blushing and Louis can't remember ever seeing Nick properly blush, not when it's not fueled by alcohol.

“Been trying not to stare at your bum for a half hour. Now I've got those stupid eyes to worry about and those stupid cheekbones.” Nick's gaze quickly falls down Louis' body before he looks back to the TV. “And everything else,” he adds quietly.

Louis chews at the corner of his bottom lip, wishing this was all a little easier. Because everything about this is wrong, the fact that he and Nick barely even get along, the Harry situation... None of it adds up and Louis shouldn't even be here, but he is and he has no plans of leaving and that doesn't make sense.

He pulls himself up, keeping his legs draped over Nick's lap as he sits up. And he looks at Nick, who looks back, and Louis wants to touch him and it just doesn't make sense. He cautiously brings his hand down to Nick's arm over his legs, his thumb pressing against the skin and he keeps the rest of his fingers curled in because this is already too much, just this little touch, and he has to keep himself in check.

“You really like me, don't you? Like not just...” Louis trails off, wanting to choose the correct words. When he speaks again, he's not sure they're actually the correct words, but they'll do. “You don't just want to suck my cock. You actually like me.”

Nick exhales and he looks a little ashamed, finally nodding a bit as he responds.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Louis asks curiously because he never would have guessed it from the way Nick talks to him or acts around him.

“You think I know?” Nick asks, his eyebrows raised. “I mean, it probably started with your smile and worked out from there, but I don't honestly know how it happened.”

“My smile?” Louis asks incredulously.

“Yeah, your smile, your ridiculously bright smile and the way your eyes light up with it and the way the skin by your eyes wrinkles up,” Nick says before he stops himself. He takes another breath and nods to himself. “Yeah, your smile. It says a lot about you and when I started noticing it, well, it sort of snowballed from there.”

Louis props his elbow against the back of the couch and leans his jaw against his hand and he clenches his other hand into a fist, disappointed in himself when he can't stop his thumb from moving in small circles against Nick's arm. Nick's hand grips Louis' shin and he can feel the muscles in Nick's forearm flex under his touch.

“What does it say about me then?” Louis asks quietly and he wishes he didn't have to ask, didn't need to know, but he does.

Nick's blushing again, Louis' pretty sure, and he clamps his eyelids down for a moment because that shouldn't make anything inside him flutter, but it really does and Louis' quite sure he's fucked. Completely, entirely fucked.

“What Louis Tomlinson's smile says about him, chapter one,” Nick says with a small smirk and Louis exhales a puff of laughter at that, but doesn't speak, waiting for the story to start. And after Nick thinks for a moment, he speaks, looking back into Louis' eyes.

“You love a lot, that much is obvious. When you let someone in, you love them without reservation, without conditions. You could go your whole life loving someone and never tell them and they'd still know because it pours out of you, radiates from your skin.”

Louis' a little breathless, a little taken aback, but he smiles and dips his head and he can feel that he's blushing, too, now. And this whole thing is absurd. Two of the most extroverted and obnoxious men in England are blushing over each other like schoolgirls and Louis' so fucking fucked.

“Should I go on?” Nick asks, dipping his head a bit, too, to catch Louis' eyes again. “Because the next chapter is about how you keep your guard up and you don't always want people to see your happiness because it's giving away too much and you don't want to let people have those parts of you. So you try to mask it, try not to let people see, but it's still pretty obvious to anyone who's paying attention.”

Louis suddenly wonders when Nick started paying attention, when he put all of this together because as he's speaking, Louis' realizing that these are things that he's never even really noticed about himself, but they're all actually more or less true.

He lifts his head and drops his hand to Nick's shoulder, letting the backs of his fingers run up to his neck where he can feel the warm skin and his breath is shallow as he looks into Nick's eyes.

“How many chapters are there?” He asks, swallowing heavily.

“Don't know yet,” Nick says and his eyes fall to Louis' lips but he tears them away quickly, guiltily looking to the floor. “Work in progress.”

Louis smiles softly and ignores everything else as his fingers move lightly against the skin of Nick's neck.

“Look at me.”

And when he does, Louis smiles a bit more because he wants Nick to have this part of him, wants him to see how happy he feels in this moment. And his brain realizes that he really shouldn't be, has no reason to be, but the fluttering feeling in his stomach is telling him otherwise.

Nick searches his face for a moment before he whispers “fuck”, his eyes falling shut as he leans forward, pressing his lips into Louis'.

Louis leans into the kiss and smiles around Nick's lips because he doesn't taste like stale alcohol this time, neither of them do. He pulls him in by the strings of his hoodie and it all feels easier, more natural than it should and he lets himself get lost in it.

And they clearly both know it's just the kiss tonight; there's no hurrying, no pushing, because this is all there is. When Nick pulls away for a moment, he brings a hand to rest on Louis' neck, staring into his eyes like he's trying to figure something out.

“Why are you kissing me?” He asks, his thumb moving across Louis' jaw. “Why didn't you tell me no?”

Louis stares back, wishing he had a good response, but he really doesn't. He doesn't have any response.

“I don't know.”

He wishes he had something better, wishes he had his own book to read from, filled with the wonders of who Nick is, but he doesn't. All he has is a feeling under his skin pulling him into Nick, like they each have a magnet inside them and it's just simple physics when they touch. They're just two unlike poles attracting each other.

Nick doesn't look too upset about it anyway. He leans in and kisses Louis again and Louis could stay like this for hours, maybe days, but he has another kind of magnet at home, nagging stubbornly at the back of his head. So he ends the kiss and as soon as his lips leave Nick's, he pouts at the loss.

“I can't do this,” he says, still pouting, leaning his head against Nick's shoulder. 

In response, Nick drops his arms to wrap around Louis' waist, hugging him close. And they sit there like that for a while, Louis absently playing with the strings of Nick's hoodie and Nick playing with the bottom hem of Louis' shirt as Louis tries to work up the will to get up, to leave.

“I really can't do this,” he repeats, mostly to himself.

Lifting his head, he looks into Nick's eyes again and he kisses him again, softly, before sighing to himself.

“We probably shouldn't see each other until the thing with Harry works itself out.”

And, even as he says it, he doesn't move away, leaning into Nick's body and touching his lips to Nick's once more.

“Probably for the best,” Nick agrees, but as he says it, he squeezes Louis a bit closer.

Louis stays there for another moment before finally shaking his head and throwing his legs off Nick's, standing up before he can change his mind, releasing a frustrated noise as he does so. He looks down at Nick for a moment before turning away, walking toward the door because if he looks at him any longer, he'll sink back down on the couch and he'll never leave.

When he gets to the door, he notices that Nick isn't following and he leans back against the wall, pouting at the back of Nick's head.

“Aren't you going to say goodnight?” He asks, a slight whine in his voice, and, yes, he's well aware he's being a brat.

Nick pushes himself off the couch, laughing lightly, and walks to where Louis is, immediately dropping his hands to Louis' sides.

“Thought you wanted to get out of here before I kissed you again,” he says.

“I did, but then I changed my mind,” Louis explains, sticking his bottom lip out. 

Nick's eyes fall to Louis' pout and he moves in, whispering, “you're an idiot,” before he captures Louis' lips between his. 

And they kiss long and slow, Louis pressed up against the wall next to the door and he needs to leave, whining into Nick's lips as he tries to pull away, but in reality his hands are on Nick's neck, pulling him in. It's several minutes before he's successful, dropping his hands and pulling away.

He looks into Nick's eyes for just a moment before he turns and opens the door, walking out into the sobering fresh air without looking back.

-

When he wakes the next morning, mind still fuzzy and confused from the night before, he goes into the kitchen in search of tea and finds Harry sitting at the table there.

“Hey,” Harry says and it's the first word he's spoken to Louis in days.

“Hey,” Louis responds, stopping suddenly. 

“I'm ready to talk if you are.”

Of course he wants to talk now, now that Louis actually has no idea what to say. He asks for a minute to make tea and, as he does so, he tries to figure out what to say. There's always lying, but Louis doesn't consider that option for any length of time because he's already broken enough of the rules of friendship and he doesn't want to break any more. 

So he tries to figure out how to explain the truth in a way that won't hurt Harry more, but it seems inevitable. He's going to have to hurt his best friend and that thought makes him want to curl up in the pantry and hide for a few months.

But he takes his tea to the table and sits across from Harry and he sucks in a nervous breath as Harry looks up at him expectantly. Louis still doesn't know what to say, doesn't know where to start, so he takes a sip of tea to avoid speaking first.

“Are you guys dating now?” Harry asks point-blank and Louis' relieved that there's no anger in his voice, no coldness, but there is a hint of pain and detachment and Louis wishes he could fix it.

“No, not dating...” And he should use this opportunity to explain further, but he just shakes his head and says “no” again.

“Fucking?”

Louis swallows heavily and immediately shakes his head again.

“No, not fucking.”

It's quiet for a minute and Louis can't meet Harry's unwavering gaze for more than a second before he has to look down into his tea.

“So explain it then. What are you?”

Louis takes a long breath and finally looks up, hoping he doesn't say the wrong thing.

“We're... Fuck, Harry, I don't know. We're nothing, really, except that we have this thing and I think we could be something but I'm not going to do that to you, not going to hurt you, so we're nothing, really.”

Harry stares and Louis doesn't know if it's lying to leave out the part where they spent the previous evening kissing on Nick's couch or if it's just being considerate. He doesn't know if he's supposed to tell Harry that they've agreed not to see each other and how it's eating him up, making him feel a bit numb and more than a bit sad.

“But you both have feelings for each other?”

Louis drops his head, looking back to his tea, because he doesn't want to see the look on Harry's face when he says it.

“Yeah.”

“Are we talking sexual feelings or real feelings?”

And even though Louis hasn't figured out exactly how he feels, he knows there's something real behind it, so he answers as honestly as he can.

“Both, I think.”

Harry sighs heavily then pushes his chair back quickly, standing and pacing the room slowly. Louis looks up and sees the frustration in his eyes and he feels so bad, wishes he could just say he'll forget Nick, that he'll get over it, but last night is still with him. He hasn't had enough time to shake it.

“Why?” Harry asks, stopping suddenly. “You never even liked him. You rolled your eyes every time I mentioned how great he is. So why do you all of a sudden have a thing for him?”

Louis remembers his thoughts the night before, briefly considers explaining his magnet theory to Harry, blaming it on science, but he doesn't think that's what Harry's looking for right now. 

“I don't know, honestly, and I'm so sorry that I do. Really, I wish I could just say the word and it would be over because I would in a heartbeat.”

Harry takes it in and shakes his head, bringing his palms up to cover his face.

“I just feel like such an idiot,” he says, still shaking his head.

“Harry, come on,” Louis says softly, standing and approaching the younger boy carefully. “You're not an idiot. He's an idiot.”

He really is, Louis thinks, choosing him over Harry. Science is obviously to blame here because who would actually willingly choose him over Harry? Either it's science or Nick is just plain daft. Maybe it's a bit of both.

“No, I _am_ an idiot. I've basically been throwing myself at him and all the while he's been wanting you and it's so embarrassing.”

Louis pulls Harry's hands away from his face and slowly surrounds him in a hug, waiting to see if he'll accept it or if he'll push him away. And Harry does tense for a moment, but then he's throwing himself into it, hugging Louis like they're just seeing each other after a year apart and Louis almost chokes up as he buries his face in Harry's neck, but he holds the feeling back, squeezing his friend tightly.

“I'm so sorry,” Louis says. 

He gets no response, but he doesn't need one. Not now. They stand in the embrace for a long while and when Harry finally pulls away, Louis frowns up at him, hesitating for a moment before speaking.

“We're not going to see each other, he and I. So nothing's going to happen.”

He squeezes Harry's waist and leaves the room before Harry can answer because he doesn't want him to feel like he has to argue the point, to give his blessing. So he leaves and, even though he still feels guilty deep inside and even though he still feels inexplicably sad that he won't be seeing Nick any time soon, he also feels a bit better because the conversation with Harry actually went far better than he could have hoped for. 

And maybe he'll forget about Nick once he gets some time away from him. Maybe he'll forget the feel of his lips and the taste of his tongue and the sound of his stupid voice. Just maybe.

-

Louis meets Zayn for lunch between classes that week at a little coffee shop near campus that has excellent sandwiches and a cozy atmosphere. He buys a tuna on wheat and an iced tea at the counter, then settles into a booth across from Zayn, who's already biting into his sandwich.

“So, do you want to talk about this Nick thing yet?”

Louis hasn't spoken to anyone about it but he's not really surprised to hear that Zayn knows. Maybe they all know, he's not sure, but if Harry wants to talk to them about it, Louis doesn't really have enough moral high ground left to be upset about it.

“I'd rather not, no,” Louis says quietly as he unwraps his sandwich.

“You sure? Because it's kind of a _thing_ , you know,” Zayn presses. “It's not just anyone, it's _Nick Grimshaw_. Remember how you've always hated him?”

“I haven't always hated him,” Louis clarifies, taking a sip from his iced tea. “I've just disliked him wholeheartedly.”

And sure, it's a fine line, but there _is_ a difference. 

“And now... what?” 

Louis sighs, flicking the fringe away from his eyes and staring down at the grains in his bread. He doesn't want to talk about it, not just because of the Harry situation and the _Nick Grimshaw_ situation, but because he doesn't know. He doesn't know anything, doesn't know why or how or what he wants. He just knows that, somehow, his dislike took a 180 and now he can't fucking stop thinking about him.

“I don't know, Zayn,” he finally answers, feeling lost. “I really don't know.”

It's silent as they eat for a few minutes and Louis can tell Zayn is still eyeing him, still thinking his deep, philosophical thoughts, but when he speaks again, he tries to lighten the mood instead of pressing further.

“You're not going to start prattling on about his freckles, are you?”

Louis cracks a smile, but immediately remembers Harry's pitiful, drunken rambling about Nick's perfection and the smile is gone. 

“I'm such a shit friend,” he mutters, shaking his head at himself.

“Shit friends don't know they're shit friends. The fact that you think you're a shit friend shows that you're not, really.”

Louis stares blankly at him for a long moment, then narrows his eyes.

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

Zayn smiles, swallowing the last bite of his sandwich and wiping his mouth.

“It means you care about him. You think about him more than yourself. And from what I've gathered, you're trying to stay away from a guy you really like for him. A shit friend wouldn't even think about that.”

Louis digests that for a long moment, staring distantly out the window at some kids laughing, walking down the road. 

“What if I can't stay away though?” Louis asks, because trying to do something and successfully doing something are two different things.

When Louis finally looks back at Zayn, he's doing that thoughtful stare thing again, his head tilted to the side.

“Harry will never not love you. You just have to give him some time, I think. He'll get over it.”

“Over Nick or over me hurting him?” 

“Both.”

When Louis says goodbye to Zayn and heads to his next class, he can only hope Zayn is right. He can wait. And, if Louis miraculously does manage to forget about Nick in the meantime, well, that'd be alright, too.

-

A week later, though, Louis has composed a dozen texts to Nick and not sent one. He misses him and that's ridiculous because he was just starting to feel whatever it is he's feeling so it should be fading now that he's not around. It shouldn't be keeping Louis awake at night. 

It's one of those nights now, past 2:00 AM, and Louis' laying in bed in his dark room, clutching his phone, wondering how bad of a friend it would make him if he just called Nick. The same thing he always wonders, really.

But tonight is different because he actually taps Nick's name and holds the phone up to his ear and it's a stupid thing to do, but Louis' tired past the point of caring.

“Louis?” Nick asks when he picks up and it's obvious he's been sleeping. His voice is thick and worried and Louis smiles at the sound.

“Yeah, hi, sorry for waking you,” he replies as he hears shuffling on the other end.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything's fine,” Louis says and he suddenly feels awful for waking him. “Shit, I'm really sorry. I'll let you get back to sleep.”

“No,” Nick says quickly. “No, talk to me.”

Louis doesn't really know what to say. He didn't have anything planned, so he decides to start with the thing he's been wanting to text Nick about all week.

“Uh, well, Harry's talking to me again.”

“Really? That's great,” he says and Louis can picture the sleepy smile on his face. 

“Yeah, it is. I think we're good now. It was awkward for a few days, but it seems like we're normal again.”

“I'm really, really glad, Louis. Really glad.”

Louis nods to himself, sighing.

“Me too.”

It's silent for a moment and Louis wishes he could fill the silence with a touch, wishes he could wrap himself around Nick, but he settles for the soft breath he's getting.

“Was there a chapter three in that book you're writing?” He asks quietly.

Nick hesitates for a moment before he responds, speaking slowly.

“Yeah. Yeah, chapter three is all about how, when you smile, it's not just your face that changes, it's everything about you. You smile with your body and your voice. The air around you smiles, like you and mother nature are in on it together.”

Louis smiles as he listens and wonders if maybe Nick actually has written this down before because who comes up with this shit in the middle of the night when they're half-asleep?

“Like, for instance, I know you're smiling right now. I can feel it over here.”

And he has nothing to say, no response to give. He lets his smile soften before he finally speaks.

“Think I'm going to start writing my own book.”

“Oh yeah?” Nick asks curiously.

“Yeah. Working title: All the ways Nick Grimshaw is awful and all the reasons I sort of like him anyway.”

Nick laughs lightly and the sound makes Louis want to jump out of bed and get in his car and drive over there just so he can see it again, the laughter in Nick's eyes.

“Do you have an idea for how it'll start?”

“I'm writing the first chapter in my head right now, actually.”

“Hmm. How's it go?”

Louis smiles and rolls over, holding the phone tightly to his ear as he speaks.

“Something along the lines of how you act like you know everything and how you're an egotistical little shit sometimes, but when you let people see the parts of you underneath all that, you're maybe one of the most thoughtful people I've met. And how you're happiest when everyone around you is happy because you're actually not nearly as self-centered as you claim to be.”

Nick laughs a bit and maybe it's the darkness of the night pressing in on him, but he feels sort of hopelessly sad for a moment because of the magnet situation and his skin feels wrong without Nick's hands on it and it's all so fucking ridiculous because they've barely had anything. He's barely gotten a taste of it but he feels like he'll starve if he can't have more. 

And, yeah, it's definitely the darkness of the night making him think these things.

“I should go,” Louis says because he's realizing that this phone call isn't helping anything. It's just making it worse.

“Are you okay?” Nick asks, clearly noticing the sadness that's crept into his voice.

“Yeah, I just- I should go.”

Nick waits a moment before saying “okay” and they stumble over their goodbyes because there's no “see you soon” or “talk to you later” to be said. And when Louis says goodnight and hangs up, he spends another hour staring blankly at the ceiling before he can fall asleep.

-

“Whose party is this anyway?” Louis asks as he follows Harry out the door onto a large rooftop patio lined with tall heaters to fight off the cold night air.

It's not the kind of party he's used to. No one is wearing joggers, no one is puking in the corner. It's a right classy affair and he's thankful he decided to wear the skinny jeans and plain t-shirt he did instead of some band tee he picked out of the pile of laundry on his bedroom floor. He's almost startled when he sees someone drinking beer out of a can, wonders if someone forgot to give him a frosted glass.

“Friend of a friend. Lauren,” Harry explains, pulling Louis along to the bar set up along one end of the patio.

“And which friend is she a friend of?”

Louis can never keep track of Harry's web of friends. It seems to grow every day and he's actually surprised when he and Harry are out and he doesn't bump into someone he knows. 

Harry orders them drinks and explains how he knows her, but Louis is lost after “I met this guy, Jack, in class” because it gets complicated. But, judging by the number of people who shout greetings at Harry, it doesn't really matter. He knows them all.

Louis takes his vodka cranberry and sips it, nodding to himself as Harry gets caught up in a conversation with a guy he apparently knows from somewhere in the confusing web of friends. His eyes scan the crowd and when they find a familiar head of hair attached to a familiar face, he almost rolls his eyes to himself. Of course he's here, Louis thinks. Like Harry, he knows everyone. 

Nick hasn't seen him yet and he allows himself a moment to watch him laughing with a pretty blonde girl before he turns back to Harry, trying to ignore the magnetic feeling he's getting in his chest again. When Harry turns back to him, Louis forces a smile and he wonders if Harry knew Nick would be here or if it's just a coincidence. As far as he knows, they haven't spoken since the handjob night, but maybe they have and neither told him.

Louis follows Harry to a table and Harry hugs a couple of people before they sit and Louis just watches. He watches Harry interact with the crowd and almost wishes he had his charm, his social skills, but then he thinks maybe he's okay with just watching. He smiles along with the conversation, but honestly his mind is wrapped up in thoughts about the man across the room.

Thirty minutes later, Louis gets up to grab them fresh drinks and, as he's walking to the bar, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He orders refills before digging it out of his pocket and seeing the new text from Nick.

_i just wrote another chapter_

Louis doesn't even bother looking around, doesn't want to see Nick's face right now. Instead he smiles at the screen and types back his response.

_oh? whats this one about?_

By the time he's finished typing, the bartender has set two full glasses down and Louis takes them back to the table, sitting down in his previous seat. It takes a couple of minutes for the response to come, but it does and Louis makes sure the screen of his phone isn't angled toward Harry before he opens the text and reads.

_sometimes your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes and it's hard to watch but they're still so gorgeous even when they're not shining. and you don't think people notice the sadness behind them but they do. those of us who are really looking anyway_

As Louis reads, he tries not to react. He bites his lips and drops his phone into his lap and, after a few seconds, he finally looks up to where he can feel Nick's eyes on him. Their eyes meet and they just stare for a while before Louis looks back down. He pockets his phone and leans toward Harry.

“Any idea where the bathroom is?”

Harry explains that it's just inside the door they walked through to get out here and Louis nods as Harry goes back to the conversation. He gets up, walking in that direction, but he doesn't go into the bathroom once he gets inside. He just stands in the empty hall and waits because he's pretty sure Nick will follow and he's right about that, of course. A minute later, Nick is walking in through the door and Louis grabs his wrist, pulling him around the corner where the hall turns.

He leans back against the wall and pulls Nick in and Louis' surprised by how soft the kiss is, thought he'd be shoving his tongue into his mouth, but he touches Nick's lips to his own gently, pressing into them slowly. There's an air of defeat in this kiss and Louis hates his lack of self-restraint, but he doesn't know how to conquer physics.

“I wrote another chapter, too,” Louis says quietly when he pulls out of the kiss, looking into Nick's eyes.

“Mmm?” Nick asks, trailing his fingers down Louis' arm. “What's that about?”

“Your shirt is stupid,” he starts, looking down at the ridiculous floral print thing he's wearing. “Your shirts are almost always stupid and I've spent hours of my life trying to figure out why you purchase these things, what possesses you to even pick them up.”

Nick's smiling a bit, pleased, like the whole point of his clothing is for Louis to hate it and he's getting exactly what he wanted now.

“Your shirt is stupid, but you're the best kisser I've ever kissed and I don't even think it's only that you're an amazing kisser, it's just the science of it.”

Nick gives him this half-smile, half-frown expression and Louis pushes himself up to kiss him again, letting his lips linger against Nick's for a moment before dropping back again.

“Science, hm? Like chemistry?” Nick asks, traces of his previous expression still there, skin wrinkling by his eyebrows.

Louis shakes his head and wraps his arms around Neck's neck, pulling him into an embrace and resting his forehead against Nick's shoulder.

“Physics. Magnets and stuff.”

Nick doesn't respond but Louis feels lips soft against his neck and he sighs at the feeling, pulling Nick closer. And he gives himself a couple of minutes before he tears away from it, leaning back against the wall and looking at Nick for a long moment before speaking.

“Have to go back out there,” Louis says, nodding down the hall.

“I know,” Nick replies, lifting his thumb to the corner of Louis' mouth, hesitant like he's trying to pull away, too.

They fall into it once more, lips moving slowly together, and Louis can't fucking figure it out. It feels amazing, maybe better than any feeling he's had with anyone before, and it's ridiculous.

He finally pulls away, squeezing Nick's shoulders before turning and walking away, his chest heavy with the pull, but he struggles against it, moving one foot in front of the other until he's outside again. Taking in a deep breath of night air, he goes back to the table and sits down next to Harry, who's involved in a group conversation about badgers or something. Louis doesn't make an attempt to follow along, his mind too fuzzy to have any success anyway. 

He has no idea how long it's been or how long Harry's focus has been on him, but Harry leans in close to Louis, eyes trained on his as he speaks quietly.

“You realize I never asked you to stay away from him, right?”

Louis' eyes snap up like a child caught nicking biscuits from the pantry without permission or something.

“Just want you to remember that,” he goes on, peering thoughtfully into Louis' eyes. “In case you forgot.”

Harry turns back to the conversation and Louis doesn't really relax again that night. He listens distractedly and smiles tightly and he's both really glad and really nervous when Harry's ready to go home and they get into a quiet taxi together.

They don't say much until they're home, door closed behind them and, when Louis goes to head off to his bedroom, Harry calls him back, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, thinking. Louis stands several feet away, waiting to see what Harry will say.

“Are you in love with him?” Harry asks, cocking his head to the side.

And it's definitely not what Louis was expecting.

“What?” he asks loudly, eyes wide. “No! No, we've only- I mean,” he sputters, “we've only snogged a few times. It's not- nothing like- no, it's just, there are magnets- it's nothing like that, no.”

And he sounds like an idiot, has no idea what the words spilling out of his mouth add up to, but he hopes Harry gets it because he doesn't know how to explain that it's not love, not there yet, but it's something. Maybe something important.

“Well, whatever it is, it's got you acting different. You're sad, Lou, I see it. And I can't be the reason you're sad.”

Louis shrugs because he immediately sees the problem here, he sees the stalemate.

“Well, I can't be the reason you're sad either.”

Harry sighs and shakes his head to himself.

“My sad and your sad are different. My sad is whining and pouting because I think he's fit and he's funny and I've turned on the charm so hard with him and I get no response and it's frustrating.” He's started smiling softly and Louis mirrors him, but it disappears when Harry starts speaking again. “Your sad is... You've gotten so quiet lately. You don't laugh as much, don't joke around as much. And it's terrible because I know you're trying not to let me see it, but I do, Lou, I see that you're sad.”

And Louis' starting to get a little upset because twice tonight he's been called out for being noticeably sad even when he's trying to cover it up and he wonders if it's just because it's these two people or if everyone can see it.

“And it's not like I get him either way, so one of us should get to be happy, yeah?” Harry crosses the room, dropping his hands onto Louis' shoulders. “I want you to be happy.”

His long arms wrap Louis into a hug and Louis holds him tightly, shaking his head against his chest.

“Not gonna do that to you,” he says into Harry's shoulder.

And he means it. There are things more important than amazing kisses and bright brown eyes and he can learn to conquer physics, he's sure he can, if he just takes the time to figure it out.

“Well, when you cave in, just remember that. Remember that I want you to be happy and don't punish yourself for feeling good, alright?”

Louis stays silent for a long moment, just holding onto Harry's shoulders, before he finally kicks Harry's ankle lightly.

“Wanker,” he mumbles, tightening his grip. “Got no faith in me.”

Harry laughs and pinches Louis' bum before pulling out of the hug.

“Just being observant is all,” he says, winking and taking a step back. “Night.”

And then he turns away, heading to his own bedroom and Louis stands there, feeling a bit winded by the conversation and more than a bit concerned by its implications. Because if Louis couldn't stay away from Nick before he was given permission, he really doesn't know how he will now. And he would just say fuck it and go for it, but he knows Harry's not over him, knows it would still hurt him, and he really can't do that to him. He can't be that guy in Harry's mind, the guy who stole his crush away.

-

That Thursday they meet at the pub and it's been different these past few weeks, they've all noticed it, but no one has mentioned it. At least, not until now.

“Are we allowed to talk about it yet?” Niall asks loudly when a silence falls over the booth. “About how weird Thursdays are since Harry's stopped going on about his unrequited love and Louis' stopped talking about what a prat he is?”

The colour drains from Louis' face and he feels Harry shift uncomfortably next to him, trying to force a smile, act like it's all a big joke.

“Niall!” Liam admonishes, smacking his arm. “Shut up, mate.”

“Sorry, it's just that we're all thinking it. I was just wondering if it's a thing we can talk about yet.”

Louis drops his forehead onto his hand, shaking his head, because Niall is nothing if not blunt. He briefly wonders if the kid has some sort of social disorder because it's not as if he means to make things awkward. He just doesn't quite get social etiquette.

“No, Niall, it's not,” Louis says through gritted teeth. 

The rest of the evening is awkward at best. Zayn keeps shooting Louis and Harry these meaningful glances and Liam talks about anything he can think of to keep the conversation from going silent and every time Louis and Harry's eyes meet, Harry tries to smile, but he's embarrassed and Louis finally pulls him under his arm, cuddling him into his side. And Harry's not quite as pliant this time, but he leans in anyway, letting Louis hold him there for the rest of the night.

-

_can you come over tonight?_

When Louis gets the text after his last class the next evening, he's completely confused because Nick has been really good about staying away. He's been better than Louis anyway and this is sort of unexpected. So Louis is immediately concerned and types out his response quickly.

_everything okay?_

_yeah, i just need to talk to you. please._

He wants to point out that they're not _supposed_ to be talking but Nick said please and Nick doesn't say please so instead of protesting, Louis asks when he should be there.

Two hours later, Louis is knocking lightly on Nick's door. It only takes a few seconds for Nick to open it and he pauses for a second before pulling Louis inside, closing the door behind them. Once it's closed, he gently pushes Louis back against the door, biting his lip.

“Hi,” he says quietly, looking down.

“Nick-” Louis starts, but he's interrupted.

“Listen, I know we're not supposed to see each other but...” He hesitates, bringing his eyes up to meet Louis'. “You know that thing you said? About the magnets?”

“Yeah,” Louis nods.

“Well, it made sense to me, you know? That's what it feels like with you, like I can't help being pulled in.”

Louis listens and his hand comes to rest on Nick's forearm, fingers moving lightly on Nick's skin and, fuck, he didn't want to do that. But Nick's eyelids flutter for a moment and that's enough to make it worth it, Louis thinks as Nick continues on.

“Anyway, I saw this thing that said one of the ways to demagnetize something is with heat.”

Louis stills his hand because the brown of Nick's eyes seems to have turned two shades darker and he thinks he understands what he's saying, but he looks up at Nick with a question in his eyes, pulling his hand away from Nick's arm for good measure.

“Lou,” Nick says, his voice low and rough, his lips hovering close to Louis'. “It'd be so hot with us, so fucking hot, and maybe it would be enough to get over you and maybe not but, fuck, I just- just want to feel it, you know?”

Louis' heart is beating hard and fast now as Nick's lips graze his lightly and a current runs down his back, skin feeling charged, and he tries to pull away, but his resolve isn't quite that high.

“We can't,” he says softly, turning his head to the side, looking down at the carpet. “You know we can't.”

A finger easily tugs his chin back up and when their eyes lock, Louis thinks once again that he's fucked, so fucking fucked.

“Isn't it worth it,” Nick whispers, pressing his lips lightly to the corner of Louis' mouth. “If there's a chance it'll shake this feeling?”

Then Nick's lips are on his properly, moving easily against Louis' and Louis can't get over their kisses, can't get over how good they are every time. Louis pulls back just enough to breathe words into Nick's lips.

“Maybe I don't want to shake this feeling.”

They still for a moment, letting that statement settle in the air around them and then it's like something snaps, like something that has been holding them apart breaks and they fall into each other, kissing desperately. 

Louis shoves his fingers into Nick's hair and pulls him in, letting rationality seep out through the cracks in the door behind his back, letting abandon take over. And they kiss for a few minutes before Nick suddenly lifts Louis up, hands under his thighs, and he's walking them down a hall. Louis moves his lips to Nick's neck so Nick can see where he's going and he's rewarded with a little groan as Louis sucks down on the pale skin there.

When he's dropped onto a bed that he assumes is Nick's, he pulls Nick down over him quickly and, even though Nick has blown him and he's wanked Nick, this is something different, more intimate. It's quiet except for their laboured breathing and the occasional throaty moan and they're alone here, no one else around, and it feels a bit like the rest of the world has forgotten to exist in this moment. 

“Nick,” Louis pushes out, managing to escape from Nick's lips, dropping his head back onto the pillow and looking up at the older boy.

“Yeah?” 

Nick's hand runs down Louis' side, the fabric of his shirt pulling against his skin under the touch until his hand stills, gripping onto Louis' hip. He looks up into Nick's eyes as his heartbeat hammers in his ears and he doesn't actually know what to say, feels like there are a thousand things on the tip of his tongue, just out of reach, but he can't grasp one. He searches Nick's eyes and he's so full of want and need and _pull_ that his mind is blank of anything else, anything helpful.

“Do you want to do this?” Nick asks and Louis can't tell if he's pushing his hips against Louis' to demonstrate what he means or just because he can't keep them still anymore, but it's sends a shiver down his spine either way.

“Yeah, I want to, yeah,” he breathes out. 

Nick kisses him again before stripping them both of their clothing until they're naked and pressed up against each other, hard cocks rubbing together. And it should make Louis' mind go crazy, but somehow having Nick's skin on his calms him. It feels right, Nick's cock rutting against his, and Louis sighs happily into the kiss as he spreads his legs, pushing into the feeling.

Nick holds himself up, looking down into Louis' eyes and Louis feels like he's in a fucking cliché romance film because it's like everything freezes and it's just the two of them; just two bodies, two sets of eyes, two heartbeats and two pairs of lungs, two chests rising and falling. It stretches out and Louis doesn't know how long they stay like that, just staring at each other, but it lasts long enough that Louis starts to feel like he's falling, sinking. 

“Right,” Nick says slowly, dazed. “Right, so, lube. Yeah. And condom.”

Louis' lips quirk up into a smile because he thinks maybe Nick is sinking, too, and trying to stay afloat long enough to remember the steps. Nick reaches over to pull the items out of the drawer in his nightstand and he nods to himself as he looks down at them, like he's trying to remember which is which.

“Need some help?” Louis offers, smiling widely now.

Nick looks up distractedly and, when he sees the smile, he smiles himself, breaking out of the daze.

“Shut up,” he says, dropping the items and bending down to kiss Louis again. “I'm a bit overwhelmed here, you're not allowed to take the piss.”

“'S just me,” Louis says, sitting up and grabbing the lube.

“Yeah, it's just you,” Nick says, rolling his eyes as he watches Louis open the cap. “Just the guy I've been thinking about every day for weeks now.”

Louis ignores the way his chest tightens at that and he takes Nick's hand, pouring a generous amount of lube onto his long fingers.

“Do you need more direction or...?” Louis asks eyes flicking between Nick's hand and his eyes.

Nick pushes Louis back against the bed with his dry hand, huffing.

“Of course you're sarcastic in bed. Of course you are.”

But he smiles anyway, working the lube over his fingers to coat them and Louis smirks down at him. When Nick touches a finger to his hole, though, the smirk is gone as his eyes clamp shut. It presses in slowly and Nick kisses his hip before his mouth moves over Louis' already hard cock. Louis whips his eyes open as Nick slides his lips loosely over his length, finger moving inside of him and Louis wonders what the sex is going to be like if this part is this good.

Once Louis' been thoroughly stretched and he's actually shaking from how good it is, Nick gets the condom on himself and smears lube over his dick and Louis watches as Nick lines up, sees his cloudy eyes looking up at him.

It feels like they should say something here, but Louis' not sure what and Nick clearly doesn't know either, so they just lock eyes as Nick pushes inside slowly. And, as he does, Louis actually smiles a little at the feeling and Nick smiles, too, dropping his head down to capture Louis' lips.

As Nick begins working his hips, starts thrusting slowly, Louis notices a change in the constant pull he feels in his chest because it's not an uncomfortable, aching feeling now. It's like they've clicked together and everything's as it should be, Nick deep inside Louis, skin resting against skin.

When Louis comes in Nick's hand and Nick follows soon after, buried inside him, Louis can't help but smile as they collapse back against the bed because he has no idea how this happened, how he got here, but it doesn't really matter because he _is_ here, they both are, and it's really quite a lovely place to be.

-

A little while later, Louis' laying on his stomach, face half-buried in the pillow and he can feel the softness of the bed pushing against his skin, the peacefulness of the moment consuming him.

“I don't think it worked,” Nick says, fingers rubbing light circles into Louis' back. 

He hums happily at the touch against his skin, smiling into the pillow.

“What didn't work?”

“The magnet thing.”

Louis hums again because of course it didn't work and neither of them actually expected it to, so he just turns into Nick until they're face to face and kisses him softly.

“Nope,” he agrees before closing his eyes and dropping his head onto the pillow. 

He feels Nick's lips press featherlight kisses against his cheek and jaw, then down his neck to his shoulder. Eyes still closed, he smiles tiredly, wrapping an arm around Nick's waist and basks in the feeling. 

“Wrote a new chapter in your book, by the way,” he whispers into Louis' skin, right above his collarbone. 

“Mm, tell me,” Louis says, his sleepy smile growing wider.

“The smile right after you come, when you're too tired and relaxed to keep your guard up,” Nick says, kissing his way up Louis' neck until they're face to face again. “It might be my favourite smile of yours.” He kisses Louis' lips lightly and Louis smiles at the touch. “Because it's all raw and bare and it's just you, it's not for anyone or anything else, it's just you.”

Louis lifts his eyelids and Nick smiles when he does and there's a beat before they kiss again, soft and innocent, before Louis lets out a monosyllabic giggle, just a puff of air before he closes his eyes again, burying his face in Nick's shoulder, pulling him close. 

They lay in silence for a minute and Louis' about to let the steady rise and fall of Nick's chest lull him to sleep when Nick's voice breaks the silence again, timid and quiet, like he's telling a secret.

“So, I'm falling pretty hard for you.”

And maybe Louis should be panicking, but he's not really at all. He holds Nick closer, not even bothering to open his eyes, just shifts to kiss Nick's neck then falls back to where he was.

“Yeah, me too.”

And, as he lets himself be lulled to sleep, he's fairly sure he hears Nick's heartbeat speed up for a minute before it slowly goes back to its normal rhythm and Louis smiles again into Nick's shoulder because maybe he just made Nick's heart race and that's actually pretty amazing.

-

When Louis enters his flat the next morning, Harry's on the couch, eating popcorn as he flips channels on the telly. He looks up and, when their eyes meet, he gives a small, knowing smile before looking back to the screen.

And that tiny little smile unleashes a flood of anxiety in Louis because he knows, of course he knows, and Louis sees the hint of masked sadness in it, too. Harry's smiles always reach his eyes, always, but this one didn't and Louis hates that he lost so much control the night before. 

“The lads are coming over for a Harry Potter movie marathon tonight,” Harry says, finally settling on some old cartoon and dropping the remote. 

Louis nods, sitting at the other end of the couch and letting Harry dig his feet under his thighs.

“Okay, sounds good.”

“You should invite Nick.”

Louis snaps his head up because he says it so casually, like it's no big deal at all. Harry doesn't even turn to meet Louis' eyes, his focus on the screen as a cartoon mouse assesses a cube of cheese atop a mousetrap. 

“What? Why?”

“Because you should probably stop being a prat already and give that being happy thing a go.” He finally glances up, meeting Louis' bewildered gaze. “Seriously, invite him and we can all spend time together and you two can make not-so-secretive eyes at each other and maybe not sneak off to the loo for a quickie handjob this time and it'll be fun.”

Louis' stuck, frozen, because he doesn't know quite what to say to that.

“Harry-”

“I'm serious, Louis. If you don't call him, I will. And I'll make it embarrassing, tell him that you always cry when Dobby dies and you're so inconsolable that even I can't calm you down.”

“Everyone cries when Dobby dies, Harry,” he retorts stubbornly as Harry grins teasingly, wiggling his toes under Louis' thigh.

“You were _sobbing_ , in the theater, Lou. Like, snot-dripping-down-your-face sobbing.”

“I'm not made of stone!” He pouts, trying not to think about that stupid scene.

Harry laughs and sits up, wrapping his arms around Louis' shoulders.

“My poor, sensitive Louis,” he coos and Louis smacks him on the arm grumpily.

He really could bring up the fact that Harry was visibly upset for days after reading the last Harry Potter book and all Louis had to say to get him to tear up was “always”, but he lets it go, standing up and heading out of the room.

“Invite him,” Harry calls after him.

“ _Fine_ ,” Louis responds, exasperated.

And well. This is going to be an interesting night. 

-

“Food and beverages coming through!” Niall shouts, entering the room with his arms full of two giant bowls of crisps and popcorn and a six-pack of beer.

“Wait, which movies are we watching?” Liam asks, confused, looking at the stack of 8 DVDs on the table. 

“Maybe just the last two?” Harry suggests. 

“Yeah, last two, they're the best ones,” Zayn agrees.

As Harry gets the TV set up, Louis gnaws unconsciously on his thumbnail, dreading this evening. He tries to tell himself it's no big deal, but the truth is he's about to sit through five hours of film in the same room as the person he just had sex with for the first time last night, the person who told him he's falling for him, and also his best friend who's been pining for that person for months now and when did his life get so complicated?

When there's a knock at the door, no one actually moves to get it because Louis' glued to his spot on the couch with anxiety and Harry's fussing with the remote and the other three are just sort of looking around nervously like they're not sure what to do. Finally, Niall gets up with an exasperated “no worries, lads, I'll get it,” and opens the door.

Nick is nervous, too, Louis can see it immediately. The whole situation is weird, weird because of Louis' thing, weird because Nick and Harry haven't really spent time together since the handjob night, and weird because Nick doesn't often hang out with the other three lads unless they're out at a party or a pub. Having Nick at their little guys night in is a little strange in itself. 

Niall seems to be the only one not feeling the strangeness in the atmosphere, giving Nick a big hug and pushing him toward the empty spot at the end of the couch, past Liam and Louis. First, though, he stops by Harry in front of the TV and gives him an awkward hug before Harry grins and pats him on the back. And as Louis watches it, he realizes that he sometimes forgets Harry and Nick have a friendship underneath that crush Harry's been harbouring, a real friendship that Louis' probably never even seen the full extent of.

But as Nick sits down next to him, his thoughts move on quickly. Harry and Zayn lay out on the floor in front of them, propping their heads up with pillows, and Liam tucks his legs up under him to Louis' left, but to Louis' right, there's a two-inch gap between his and Nick's bodies that Louis focuses on maintaining. He glances over and meets Nick's eyes as the movie starts, Niall flipping off the lights, and he has the intense urge to kiss him, but he knows he can't so he just gives a half-smile before turning back to the screen.

Twenty minutes in, Louis pulls his knees up to block any view Harry might have, and lets his hand fall next to Nick's. Nick immediately reaches out and runs his thumb over Louis' fingers and Louis turns his hand until their palms are touching. Slotting their fingers together, their fingers curl in and Louis holds on tightly as Nick runs the pad of his thumb over Louis' skin. It helps enough that Louis can actually relax a little.

When Dobby dies, Nick's hand is light on Louis' thigh because Louis' hands are occupied covering his face since he really doesn't want to cry in front of Nick yet. He buries his face and tries to think about anything else, but then he hears “such a beautiful place to be with friends” and his lip quivers behind his hand and, even though he has no doubt his aren't the only tears in the room, he feels humiliated as Nick's hand rubs his thigh comfortingly.

He takes a deep breath and, when he's sure the tears are done, he pulls his hands down, wiping away the moisture, blatantly refusing to look toward Nick even when he senses the older man glance over, his hand squeezing his thigh.

When the credits roll, everyone is up, looking for the loo or a new drink or just stretching. Niall notices the empty bowls and grabs them, dragging Nick along to help as Harry switches the DVDs and Louis just sits there, avoiding everyone's eyes. 

Finally, he stands and stretches himself, heading into the kitchen in search of a non-alcoholic beverage since he's had two beers and he can't allow himself any more in this situation, needs to keep himself in check. When he walks in, Nick is opening a bag of crisps and Niall is washing his hands, his back turned.

Nick's gaze lifts to meet Louis' and Louis smiles, walking up next to him and pushing himself up under Nick's arm, curling into his chest. And he tries not to, but he tilts his head up and presses a kiss into Nick's lips.

“So are you boys official then? Boyfriends and whatnot?” Niall asks quietly, thank god. 

Louis pulls his lips off of Nick's and turns to look at Niall disbelievingly. 

“Niall! We haven't- haven't really discussed- no,” Louis manages to say and Niall just raises his hands innocently.

“Oh, sorry, didn't know. Thought maybe that was why you was here.” Niall picks up another six-pack and heads to leave. “Glad to see ya anyway, mate. Been a while,” he directs at Nick on his way out with a smile.

When he's gone, it's just the two of them in the room and Louis cringes, turning to Nick, bringing his hands up to circle Nick's neck.

“God, I'm so sorry,” he whispers. “This night is so fucking awkward and Harry and Niall and I'm fucking crying and last night was-” Louis babbles, not quite completing any one thought. “And now everything's terrible and also, hi, by the way.”

Nick's grinning now at Louis' babbling and he leans down, whispering, “hi” as he kisses Louis again, long and slow, dropping his arms to Louis' waist. Louis' fingers drift up, toying with the short hair at the nape of Nick's neck and he's still wondering how the kisses can be this good, how they can make everything else disappear, when he hears a cough from across the room and everything else comes crashing back into Louis' conscious. 

“Oh, hey, sorry,” comes the voice as Louis rips away from Nick, taking a step back, and looking over to Harry at the door.

“Fuck, sorry, Harry,” he says quickly, shaking his head at himself. 

“No, it's-” Harry peers thoughtfully at the space between Louis and Nick before he looks up at Louis, head quirked to the side. “It's weird,” he says thoughtfully.

“I know, god, I'm so sorry.”

“No, I mean, it's weird because it's okay.” 

Louis' eyebrows fall together as he tries to figure out what Harry's saying. 

“What?”

“I never would have thought it, but it actually seems sort of right, seeing you two like that. That's weird, right?”

Harry looks as confused as Louis feels, glancing between he and Nick, and Louis is immediately worried that he's lying, trying to make Louis feel more comfortable, but he looks so sincere.

“Nick, can you give us a sec?” Louis asks, but Nick is nodding and walking out before he's even finished asking, like he was waiting to be excused the whole time.

“Harry,” Louis says, looking up at him seriously. “If you're lying to try to make this easier for me-”

“No, I swear!” Harry says quickly. “Besides, you know I can't lie. Remember when I tried to tell you it was Liam who ate the last of your birthday cake last year? Liam, who doesn't live here and was out of town all week anyway?”

“Yeah,” Louis says slowly, appraising him and his apparent sincerity.

“But seriously, is that what it feels like for you? Like it's just sort of right even though it doesn't make much sense on the surface? Like you two just fit?”

“Something like that, yeah,” Louis says, looking down at the floor.

“Lou,” Harry says softly, stepping in and bringing a hand up to Louis' shoulder. “He and I never could have been like that, not even if he did fancy me. And realizing it makes the thought of him with anyone but you seem wrong, even me.”

When Louis looks up, he sees bright green eyes staring down at him and, even though Louis' still a little nervous, the gaze calms him because it's genuine and comforting. He wraps his arms around the taller boy, hugging him tightly, not sure quite what to say.

“You know, this probably means he's your soul mate,” Harry says happily into Louis' ear.

“Oh god, shut up,” Louis replies, rolling his eyes.

“Seriously though, and I'm basically the reason you two found each other, so, I do expect to be best man.”

Louis tries to pull out of the hug with a disgusted noise, but Harry pulls him back in until they're wrestling, falling to the floor as Harry tries to keep his arms around Louis and Louis tries to get away.

“Just say it, say I'm best man!” Harry cries, pinning Louis to the floor.

“You always were, you twat,” Louis says, disgruntled, flipping them over.

“Oh,” Harry says, like he somehow actually didn't realize that. “Oh, well, alright then.”

When their wrestling turns to hugging on the kitchen floor, Nick appears, looking to see what's taking so long and he stops abruptly, eyebrows raised in a question as his eyes meet Louis'.

“It's a thing we do, don't worry,” Louis says nonchalantly and, while he's actually referencing the wrestling-turned-cuddling, he does realize that this is not the first time they've cuddled on their kitchen floor, so maybe that's a thing, too. Who knows.

“Well, when you're done with your thing, the other lads are getting impatient in there.”

He turns to leave, but Louis calls him back as he stands up. He sends Harry out to start the movie and then it's just the two of them in the room again and it's been such a strange night, but Louis feels it all settling now.

“How'd it go with Harry then? Is he really okay with this?” He asks, bringing a hand up to Louis' neck, resting his fingers there gently.

“Well, he thinks we're soul mates and he's called best man in our wedding, so I guess that means he's okay with it,” Louis says, shrugging.

Nick laughs and pulls Louis into a hug and Louis realizes this is the moment he's been waiting for. The moment when he can touch Nick without feeling sickeningly guilty, without hating himself for it. 

“Sounds like Harry.”

It's Nick's only response as they hug, listening to the first scenes of the movie play in the next room. And when Louis kisses Nick again, there's nothing really nagging at the back of his mind, there's only the slight pull in his chest and the warm lips on his.

-

The next week, Louis stops by Nick's bar late one night after Nick has texted him, complaining about how bored he is. When he gets there, there's only one person sitting at the end of the long bar, an older man whose eyes are fixed on the telly on the wall as he nurses a half-empty beer glass.

When Louis walks in, Nick grins, hurrying around the end of the bar to hug him, whispering “thank god,” into Louis' ear.

“Maybe you should bring a book next time,” Louis offers, taking a seat on one of the stools as Nick walks back around the bar to pour Louis a beer. 

He sets the beer down on top of the counter, then lifts up a book from underneath it.

“Finished it two hours ago,” he says dryly, putting the book back. “Now tell me about your day.”

Louis smiles, takes a sip of his beer, then jumps into a dramatic retelling of his day, from the little girl glaring at him on the bus to the annoying kid in his class who likes to say “uhhh” between every word he speaks. When he forgets details, he fills in the blanks with outlandish lies, like how he rode a unicorn home (“the city looked so small from up there, Nick, you wouldn't believe it”) and how he got an offer to play for Man U (“had to turn it down, of course, such a shame”). 

And throughout all of this, Nick smiles and laughs and it makes Louis feel warm under his skin as he rambles on until closing time comes and Nick locks the door behind the old man before he starts closing everything down. He turns down the lights and wipes off the counter, picking up the two remaining empty beer glasses, and when he gets to the bit of counter in front of Louis, he stills his hand, picking up the rag and holding it in his hand. He looks up at Louis hesitantly and it's dim in the bar, but Louis can see that Nick's holding something back.

"So, I did this stupid thing yesterday," Nick says.

But the light in his eyes tells Louis it's nothing bad, so he just tilts his head to the side, eyebrows raised curiously.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, this thing where I fell in love with you," he says, his voice going up at the end like he's asking a question.

As the words filter into Louis' brain, his heart rate speeds up and he can feel it against his chest, the heavy beat of it.

"You did, huh?" Louis replies, an uncontrollable smile spreading across his face.

"I did,” Nick says, nodding. “How do you feel about that?"

Louis thinks for a moment because how _does_ he feel about that?

"I feel..." he stretches it out, pondering, before he meets Nick's anxious gaze, "like you probably should have done that ages ago."

Nick smiles, clearly relieved, leaning his elbows against the counter top. He pauses for a moment before speaking quietly, thoughtfully. 

“Falling in love is sort of like jumping into the ocean from a really high cliff, innit?” He lowers his hand onto Louis', playing with his fingers idly as he speaks. “You jump and then it's a process, the falling. It's slower at first, then the closer you get to the water, the faster you fall.”

Louis listens, curling his fingers around Nick's, and he wonders when Nick became so deep, wonders if he's been spending time with Zayn.

“I jumped months ago. Or maybe I tripped or got pushed, but it started then. So, yeah, I've been working on it for a while now, but yesterday I just sort of crashed into the water.”

Louis smiles, squeezing Nick's hand lightly, creasing his eyebrows. 

“What happened yesterday, though? What brought this on?” 

He asks because he didn't even see Nick yesterday and he doesn't remember anything out of the ordinary in their texts that might have led to this crash.

“I woke up,” Nick says, shrugging. “I just woke up and my first thought was that I was in love with you.”

Louis doesn't really know what to say to that, feels breathlessly overwhelmed by it, so he just smiles and leans over the bar, pulling Nick toward him by the collar of his shirt and he kisses him for a moment before shifting back enough to look into his eyes. His gaze drops to his hands, still fisted into Nick's bright patterned shirt before he flicks his eyes back up, smiling again.

"Your shirt is stupid, Nick," Louis says softly, pressing another light kiss against Nick's smirking lips. "Your shirts are almost always stupid and you talk too much and you drink red wine that costs more than ten quid a bottle and you claim it tastes different when we both know it doesn't, but, fuck, I'm in love with you, too." Nick's smirk turns to a wide, blushing grin at that, but Louis keeps going. "And I couldn't tell you exactly when I crashed into the water, maybe a month ago or a week or a second ago, but I'm here in the sodding ocean and I don't even know why, but, yeah. I love you."

Nick doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to; it's all in his smile. He pushes forward, kissing Louis deeply, and Louis tries to pull Nick closer, but the bar is wide between them and it's not quite working.

“Fuck this,” Nick practically growls, pulling back and moving quickly around the bar, walking toward Louis and lifting him without warning, one hand on his back and one on his bum, holding him up as their lips crash together.

Louis can only wrap himself around Nick, holding tightly onto his shoulders as they kiss messily until Nick eventually lowers Louis, letting him stand on his own, but not stepping away. He looks down, his eyes twinkling in the darkness, and, as Nick speaks, Louis can only think that the water feels pretty nice.

“Can we please be one of those gross, annoying couples with disgusting pet names who, like, feed each other and sit on each other's laps when it's completely unnecessary?” 

“Of course we can, pumpkin,” Louis replies, winking, as Nick laughs and leans in to kiss him once more.

When Nick has finished closing down and Louis follows him to the door, Nick pauses before opening it, keys in hand.

“You coming home with me?” Nick asks, searching for the right key.

“Yeah, looks like you're stuck with me," Louis answers, wondering if the ridiculous smile that's spread across his face will ever really go away.

Nick smiles softly down at him, eyes twinkling as he brings a hand up to push Louis' fringe back a little.

“Stuck like magnets?”

Louis grins knowingly back, nodding as he kisses Nick lightly, because yes. Exactly.

“Like magnets.”

And Louis may not believe in soul mates, but he believes in this. He believes in physics and falling and that's plenty for him. It's more than enough.


End file.
